Ouch
by Celestial-moon-fire
Summary: Uh-oh, something went wrong during the assassination of Majd Addin! Altair runs, but can he escape in time? And why are there guards outside the Bureau?


Several screams rang out as the white clothed man pushed his way through the crowd. Someone shouted about the blood on his clothing. Another called for the guards, though nearly every guard in the poor district of Jerusalem must have been on his trail.

The man in white, an Assassin, cursed. The crowd was quickly dissipating. He could hear the thunderous sound of armored feet chasing him through the market square. A lone merchant was still in his stall, a look of bewilderment upon his face, stained red from the hot sun.

The merchants eyes widened in fear as the Assassin turned in the direction of his stall. "Don't kill me!" He cried. The assassin paid no attention. He had no intentions of killing. 'Stay thy blade from the flesh of innocents.' He thought as he pulled himself on top of the stall.

The guards were close behind. Almost an army of men. He dared not look back, afraid he'd lose his confidence if he saw their true numbers.

An iron decoration to his left, Just above his head. He jumped for it. The swinging action gave him the momentum he need to reach for a wooden beam sticking out the side of a building. Another beam, higher up. He climbed quickly, not once losing his balance. The guards were climbing after him. It was a wonder they didn't fall from the beams. He could tell more than one jumped for the same one at once, just from the angry cursing as one nearly knocked the other over.

The Assassin jumped for the window of a random building. Climbing for the top, he could see the rocks as they hit near his head, his hands, one hit him in the back. He nearly lost his grip, but his fear helped him hang on. If he fell now, he would die. Somehow the assassin managed to reach the top of the building, breaking into a run again. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

"Halt!" A guard on the roof across his building yelled. The assassin knew he had his bow ready to fire. Guards always gave a warning before shooting. The guard was a threat, even if he hadn't attacked yet. He could join the chase, or give away his hiding place. Without a second thought, the assassin had already drawn a throwing knife.

Screams from below as the body hit the ground. He was getting tired. The Assassins bureau wasn't far. If he could just become anonymous… An arrow flew in front of his face. Another roof top guard had seen his kill. By now several guards from below had reached the same building as him. Nearly all of them were jumping across the rooftops.

The assassin made a move to jump across another building. If he could climb up, he knew there was a cart of hay to land in. His plan was cut short as another arrow was fired. He cried out in more surprise, than pain, as the arrow pierced the flesh in his shoulder. He fell just a few inches short of the ledge, barely hanging on with his left hand. He looked down. He was up awfully high. Too high to drop.

Without wasting any time, he pulled himself up the ledge and hid around the other side of the building where he began his climb. The wind was blowing, nearly pushing his hood off.

"Capture the infidel!" One guard yelled, catching sight of him. More rocks and bricks were thrown, but by the time they'd spotted him, the assassin had been more than halfway to the top. A wooded platform was built into the side.

With a deep breath, the assassin jumped, curling his body, so he didn't break any limbs. He landed with a soft thump in the sweet-smelling golden hay. The arrow was still in his shoulder. When he landed, he drove it deeper into his skin. The shaft broke, leaving half in his shoulder. It took a great deal of willpower not to scream out in pain.

"Where did he go!?" A guard yelled. He must have been standing right next to the cart. The assassin couldn't leave until things had quieted down. It would probably be a while… He might even need to wait until dark. When things had quieted down a bit.

'Wait until dark indeed,' he thought. He finally risked poking his head out of the hay, glad to see no one was in sight. The assassin was able to jump out the side, and into the alley between two houses. His shoulder screamed in protest as he scaled the side of the house. He ignored it. That was how he'd been trained. He had long since pulled the arrow out, while hiding in the hay. He'd bitten down on the hilt of his throwing knife to keep from screaming. He was sure he would have more trouble if he'd not performed the action.

He leapt across to another building, ducking into a roof garden as a guard passed by. His next stop was guarded by six guards. 'What are they doing so close to the bureau?' The entrance was only a single rooftop away. The assassin inched closer, hoping to hear the words.

"We should go for reinforcements!" One of them said. "Who knows how many assassins are down there."

"But if we end it now, we won't have to share the glory with anyone else." Another argued.

"How do we even know if this is the right rooftop?"

"My source within was right about the assassin after Majd Addin. Why would we doubt his words now?"

"You know assassins. Masters of lies, he could be using us to cover his tracks."

'This is all I need.' The assassin thought. He needed a healer to rid him of this arrow, not a traitor to compromise the brotherhood! There were only six of them. If he were quick, he could take out at least three with his knives. The others he could take in combat.

He reached for the knives, kept in a leather sheathe on his shoulder armor. In his haste, his fingers brushed against the arrow wound. His eyes watered, but he remained silent.

The first guard fell, alerting the other five. The second fell soon after, before they had pinpointed his location.

"I see him!" A third guard yelled, pointing in his direction before a knife imbedded itself in his throat. The assassin drew his short blade. The guards were upon him before he even had it from the sheathe.

"There is no escape!"

The assassin lunged for the first one, who blocked, before swinging around to the third one. Not suspecting this, he had no time to block. His body fell over the roof. Screams rang out again, though not as many.

'Why don't people SLEEP at night?' The assassin wondered. He brought his short blade up to block any attempts to attack him. The second guard lunged forward. His worst mistake ever. The assassin ducked under his arm, dragging the blade along his side, then pulling it out to spin and shove it into his neck.

The first guard saw his chance, attacking the assassin from behind. The assassin grabbed a throwing knife and time seemed to slow as the knife spun through the air, hitting its target in the leg. With a scream, he fell to his good knee and pulled the knife out. His last action before the assassin silenced him with the hidden blade.

The assassin reclaimed his short blade from the second guard, and leapt across the final rooftop. The bureau roof door was open. The assassin carefully climbed down the wall, using the fountain as a foot hold. Malik was inside, working on his map, as always.

"J-Jerusalem needs a new ruler." The assassin said, leaning against the doorway. He put a hand over his forehead. Sweat ran down his face, from the intense battle moments before.

"So I have heard." Malik didn't look up, intent on a small error in his map.

"What's this? No w-words of…" He shook his head. "Of wisdom for me? Surly…" He placed a blood stained feather on the desk. "Surly I have failed in some spectacular manner."

Malik took no notice to the pauses as he spoke. "You performed as an assassin should. No more, no less."

Malik put down his quill silently, and pulled a book off a shelf under the desk. It landed with a thump, dust flying in the air. He turned to the page he sought so he could write the details of the mission.

"Malik, there is something… Else I would like… To discuss… With you…" His body swayed, his vision blurred. Blinking, he shook his head again.

"Out with it then."

"There is a traitor in the bureau. I heard a guard talking of it."

"Impossible. I know my men well, Altaïr."

"Then how would they know the location of the bureau? I know what I heard, Malik!" He replied, nearly falling over due to a sudden dizziness.

Malik, again, took no notice. He seemed to be thinking. "I cannot immediately believe your words, but I might as well investigate." Finally, for the first time since he'd arrived, Malik looked up. Hatred still shone in his eyes, but his expression changed to one of concern. "You have been hurt."

"Not as bad as I t-thought." The assassin would rather Malik not see him weak in any way.

Malik sighed, pointing to a chair in the back, by the table with the chess board. "Sit, I will call for the healer to take care of your wounds."

The assassin nodded slowly. He didn't move, however, until Malik left. When he was gone, he finally staggered over to the chair, waiting for the healer.


End file.
